Take This Irrelevance.

I

I did an audible b-line into the Paul Hastings food court. Quite unexpected, but mama had a hunger, and the hunger was positively screaming for hash browns and a pickle. Done. The hash browns disappeared like vapor while the pickle may survive til tiffin. Or quite possibly not. But at some point today, mark my words, this face is going to wrapped around a hunormous pickle, and it's going to make many, many  people uncomfortable. 

Looking positively amazing in double-barreled vintage Benetton and Helmut Lang. The walk to work was a flash mob of fat Asian chicks flipping their dried out hair; Desperately trying to navigate the  sidewalk in flip-flops, gracefully they hope. There was a dude in Starbucks who was hotter than God knows what. That generally doesn't happen, but we liked it. Kinda sportin a crush on the thug barista at Coffee Bean anyway. Gotta mix it up.

Feeling bad about writing about not being deliberately cruel, but then gleefully retweeting news of poseur emporium Blackbird's closure. But I couldn't help it. It's like muffin's casting off this mortal coil has imparted some special power where shit happens when I just think about it hard enough. Which if true would be super. But better to count one's blessings, which are immense. And yours?